


Making Connections

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Fluff, Will realizes he loves Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8662111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: Will stops taking Hannibal for granted.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [victorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/gifts).



> Birthday gift for victorine! <3

Hannibal wasn’t in the kitchen when Will returned. Nor was he in the study. Or his bedroom.

Will grew concerned, though he appreciated the hilarity of being worried about Hannibal. He’d grown so accustomed to Hannibal’s presence. Counted on him being there when he got home.

He heard a noise, something like… laughter. The sound led him to the backyard, where he found Hannibal playing fetch with the dog. Smiling, until he noticed Will. He quickly schooled his expression.

“Will. You’re home early.”

“Yeah, the shop didn’t have the parts I needed, I had to order them. I’ll have to let Mrs. Rubio know it’ll be a few more days for the car.” He raised an eyebrow, watching Cephie sit at Hannibal’s feet and look up at him hopefully. “Is this what you normally do when I’m not home?”

“… Sometimes.”

“Uh… huh. What else do you do when I’m not around?”

Hannibal’s face was guarded. “Nothing unusual. The house doesn’t clean itself, you know.”

“Right.” The corner of Will’s mouth twitched. “Okay. I’m… going to make myself a sandwich. You need anything?”

“Not at present.” Hannibal absently patted Cephie’s head as she jumped up to rest her paws on his thigh. Her dirty paws. He didn’t seem to mind.

Will shook his head and went back in the house. Funny, how such a small thing like Hannibal playing with their dog had all sorts of other gears turning in Will’s head. What else hadn’t he noticed?

***

He moved more quietly around the house in the hope Hannibal wouldn’t know Will was watching. He showered and didn’t put on any aftershave. He found Hannibal in the living room, listening to some music while he sorted and folded laundry. Cephie was snoozing on the rug at his feet, warming his toes.

Seeing Hannibal so casually domestic wasn’t a revelation - they had been living together for months. Domestic tasks were a necessary part of living. Preparing dinner, sweeping the floors, switching the laundry into the dryer.

After they healed, at least physically, they settled into some kind of routine. Each naturally gravitated toward his own task. Will was comfortable fixing things, Hannibal took to maintaining them. No negotiation required. It was easy, this quiet new life.

But Will never let himself think about why it was so easy, or so comfortable. Now, it stared him in the face, while Hannibal was rolling socks, folding t-shirts. Carefully setting aside items to be ironed.

Will wandered to the kitchen. He looked in the pantry; it was full, and neatly organized. Every spice and nonperishable they could possibly need. There was even boxed macaroni and cheese. The fridge had plastic containers with last night’s leftovers, Will’s favourite beer in the door. Thinking back, he realized he always had his favourite beer. He never asked for it, but it was always there.

In the bathroom, Will stared at his toiletries. His aftershave, the one Hannibal had expressed some distaste for years before, sat on the counter. Hannibal didn’t think it necessary to introduce a new one after all, it seemed. His bedroom was arranged and decorated to his own taste, in some disarray. Hannibal only ever entered to put away laundry, organizing it the way Will preferred.

He returned to the living room with a lump in his throat. The corner with his fishing gear glared at him, pulling his attention. It too was arranged how he liked. Hannibal had somehow managed to match the decor of the room around it, a blend of both their tastes.

He crouched by Cephie to scratch behind her ears, using it as an excuse to avoid looking at Hannibal.

Hannibal folded a pair of jeans and put them with a pile of others. “Something I can help you with, Will?”

“Maybe.” Cephie snuffled into the palm of Will’s hand and licked it once. Will wiped his hand on his thigh and straightened, looking at the fireplace instead.

“Something troubles you.”

“Not… not exactly.”

“I hope this isn’t a guessing game.”

Will huffed out a sheepish laugh, rubbing his chin. “No, no. Sorry. I’ve just been thinking.”

“What a relief, I was getting concerned you had forgotten how.”

“Shut up.”

Hannibal’s mouth quirked. “Apologies, please continue.”

“I never thought…” He took a deep breath and faced Hannibal. “I mean, we’ve got a pretty good life here, don’t you think?”

“I believe we do, yes.”

“You’re not… bored?”

“I could never be bored if you’re with me, Will.”

“Cephie really likes you.”

Hannibal blinked. “Your thoughts seem to be somewhat disconnected.”

“They’re connected. In fact, I just connected them today. I think they weren’t before. Or maybe I didn’t want them to be.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t follow.”

“What we’ve built, here, I never thought I’d actually have it. Least of all with you. Oh, don’t pout.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re doing that thing with your lip.” Will held up a hand when Hannibal opened his mouth again. “Just hear me out. When I took us over that cliff, I made my choice. That choice was you. I thought I was giving a lot of things up.”

“You thought you were giving up our lives.”

“Yeah, well that didn’t really work out. And I thought about that too, if we survived. I was okay with that, but there were a lot of things I didn’t think I’d ever get. Maybe I thought I didn’t deserve them, or you wouldn’t want them. Maybe it was both.”

“You do have a habit of denying yourself.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Will nudged Cephie aside and knelt at Hannibal’s feet, bracing his hands on the cushions. “My favourite beer is in the fridge.”

“Of course, it’s your favourite.”

“You do my laundry.”

“It needs to be done, and I’m doing my own as well.”

“You didn’t change my aftershave.”

“I… thought you would prefer something familiar.”

“No, you like it. You like how I smell. I’ve noticed you smell me after I shower, I just never… connected it.”

Hannibal was silent, clutching a shirt in his hands.

Will leaned in close. “You’re really not bored?”

“Is that what you expected?”

“I wasn’t sure. Do you like… taking care of the house like this? Of me?”

“I have found some satisfaction in our current arrangement.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Will rested his hands on Hannibal’s thighs, his eyebrows arching up at the catch in Hannibal’s breath. “Would you be happy if that arrangement never changed? If we kept going as we’ve been going?”

“I… could be.”

“I never told you Bedelia said you were in love with me.”

“Ah.”

“Are you seeing the connection yet?”

“… Yes, I believe I am.”

“Good.” Will closed the gap and kissed him. Light; tentative but hopeful. A declaration. “What’s for dinner?”

Hannibal dropped the shirt to grasp at Will, pulling him in for a very ungentle kiss. “Dinner may be late, tonight.”

Will grinned, and kissed him again.


End file.
